


Four Times McCoy Enjoyed Spock's Company & One Time Spock Enjoyed His

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2109423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times in which Spock was confused by McCoy and the one time he made things clear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times McCoy Enjoyed Spock's Company & One Time Spock Enjoyed His

i.  
  
It is difficult not to notice that something has gone awry on the planetary expedition. For one, the away team unanimously bears scratches on their uniforms that indicate an attack has occurred. For another, Doctor McCoy has yet to make any disparaging comments towards Spock. In fact, the doctor seems determined to keep his mouth shut at all costs.  
  
“Strange,” Spock remarks as all the members of the team are processed and sent on their way. He has kept McCoy for last in order to question him.   
  
It seems that McCoy is doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Spock, though the doctor cannot have a valid reason for doing so. His medical tests reveal that nothing is currently amiss with the man and he has no reason for holding his tongue.  
  
“Doctor, are you in pain?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Spock raises his brow at the sharp answer despite the great determination for silence earlier. “Yet you avoid speech under all circumstances. You are a verbose man, clear with your interfering emotions and unwanted opinions. You would not withhold these things unless something had, perhaps, gone awry on the mission.”  
  
Spock’s words have earned a suspicious twitch in the vicinity of Doctor McCoy’s eyes. It is as though he is repressing some form of emotion that he does not want to utter aloud.   
  
It is most uncommon, given the doctor’s habit of speaking his mind – even when his thoughts are most unwelcome.  
  
“Let’s just say the native dwellers of the planet had some unpleasant things to say about you,” McCoy grumbles. “You didn’t exactly make such a good impression. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time…”  
  
Logic denotes that the state of the away team has a direct correlation with Doctor McCoy’s confession. What is most troubling is that Spock believes it to mean that McCoy had ‘gone to bat for him’ as the captain often colloquially says.  
  
“Such remarks will strain the diplomatic relationship between our people,” says Spock, when he does not know how to tell the doctor ‘thank you’. “My honor, however, needs no defending. I am not, as you might say, weak as a kitten, Doctor.”  
  
 _Thank you very much_  is what most humans might say.  
  
Spock, however, is only half-human. And most days, McCoy calls it the bad half. Perhaps some days, he is not wrong.   
  
ii.  
  
“For the log, let it be noted that Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy…”  
  
“The computer doesn’t need my middle name, you stupid…”  
  
“…has been returned from the Planet Eldris in the form of a female adolescent of approximately fifteen Earth years.”  
  
Spock concludes his findings and resumes his stare at the fascinating state in which the Eldrinians have returned Doctor McCoy. He is far slighter than his normal male form and as Doctor McCoy is already an incredibly slight man, it gives the appearance of something his mother used to call a ‘pixie’. He is far too small for his regular uniform and he appears angry. However, it being Doctor McCoy, perhaps it is not that he is angry, but merely that this is how he knows best how to appear in current company. Spock has noted that seventy-four percent of their interaction involves Doctor McCoy’s great irritation and six-percent involves his anger.   
  
He is also blushing.  
  
It is most fascinating.   
  
“Goddammit, Spock!” McCoy announces in a particularly shrill tone that affects his ears in a disconcerting manner. “Stop staring at me!”  
  
“I am seeking explanation as to why the Eldrinians have decided to render you into this state,” Spock replies, hands behind his back and remaining as professional as can be, even in the face of this odd turn of events. “Did they give any indication as to why they were doing this?”  
  
The flush in Doctor McCoy’s cheeks rises and he rubs a hand through his light brown hair. “They might’ve,” he mutters, “well, might’ve said something about teaching me a lesson about wandering through an empathic planet with the emotions of a fifteen-year-old girl with a crush blaring from my pores like a loudspeaker. Not in those exact words.”  
  
“I presumed you had taken liberties with the language,” Spock assures. “It is your habit to render even the most graceful phrase into something mottled.”  
  
“Why you green-blooded hobgoblin!” There really is no better word for it. He is  _shrieking_ and it is most unpleasant.   
  
Spock will process more thoroughly the cause of such a flush to the doctor’s cheeks at a later date. His thoughts are currently engaged in how to best calm McCoy as well as how he might enquire as to the scientific capabilities of the Eldrinians.   
  
“You are incapable of sound judgment in your current state of shock,” he says.   
  
Perhaps he should have expected the slap to come. As Jim says, ‘there’s rarely a way to please a woman who’s already decided to have your head’. As nonsensical as the captain can be in his advice about woman, his experience shows that he has a surplus of experience with them.  
  
“Doctor, you are hyperventilating. Calm down and I will care for you,” Spock says, imitating what the captain might say to a woman in need.  
  
He is slapped once more for his attempts.  
  
iii.   
  
Jim has been called away from their chess game for pressing duties on the bridge and has given over playing duties to the doctor. Spock had debated forfeiting as he had no desire to make a fool of Doctor McCoy as the other man had a self-proclaimed disdain for chess. Still, McCoy sits across from him and studies the board with great determination, as though he is eager to pick up where Jim left off.  
  
“If you do not wish to continue play, we can adjourn for the evening,” Spock offers, feeling it is his duty to offer McCoy an exit strategy.  
  
“I’m thinking,” McCoy says, his brow furrowed in deep thought and his fingers pressed at his lips. “I may be about to lose horrifically, but not without a good fight, Spock,” he says and matches his daring words with an adventurous grin that causes a chain reaction of thoughts and buried emotions within Spock that he does not quite understand.   
  
Spock is unsure as to what type of thrill lies in a humiliating loss.  
  
It is one of only so many things he does not fully comprehend about the doctor.  
  
And yet, there is no way to deny that McCoy appears almost giddy as he loses the game by a wide margin.   
  
“I do not understand you,” Spock says, claiming each fallen piece with careful dedication.  
  
McCoy lifts his glass of Andorian brandy to salute Spock. “Someday, maybe sense will puncture those Vulcan ears of yours and you’ll realize that it’s not about the game, but about the company.”  
  
It is completely foreign to Spock.  
  
Yet he cannot deny he feels something similar to what he believes is human pleasure at the evening’s outcome. It is not quite the same as the chess games he plays with Jim, but enjoyable, nonetheless.  
  
He believes that is perhaps the point.  
  
iv.  
  
Spock is telling Doctor McCoy, once more, that it is not necessary for him to be missing the dinner in order to care for him.   
  
“What’re you talking about?” McCoy murmurs, his voice a hush so he does not ruin the captain’s pontificating speech in regards to peace in the Federation. McCoy has had to haul Spock away because someone forgot to list the secret ingredient in the sauce – that being dark chocolate. “Trust you to get drunk,” McCoy sighs, supporting him as they walk to sick-bay.  
  
“You could have pressed Nurse Chapel into caring for me.”  
  
“Really,” McCoy snorts. “On what planet do you think that’s a good idea, Spock? You being handsy and her being lovelorn? Heads would roll.”  
  
“I do not wish to encourage her affections,” Spock murmurs. He sounds very loud to his own ears. Perhaps he is being a disturbance of the peace. He believes he has never been such a thing. Perhaps he will inquire to his mother whether as a child he had ever disturbed a social gathering. Those thoughts are far from his mind. The more pressing matter is that Spock is very appreciative of the doctor’s efforts and wishes to make that known.   
  
They are standing outside of Spock’s room when McCoy begins to outwardly show his awkwardness.  
  
“Well, this is it. I’ll get you inside, let you sleep this off,” he says, his tone gentle as it always is when he is dealing with his patients – regardless of whether he is actually working. Spock finds it… _endearing_. It fills him with a strange emotion that he is aware of in theory, but has experienced very rarely in practice. He thinks, perhaps, some might call it fondness. He believes that yes, he is, indeed, fond of the doctor.   
  
He wishes to show this.   
  
On some level, he is aware that the chocolate has loosened him, inebriated him until his inhibitions are lowered. This is a particular train of thought he will indulge when he is sober. For the moment, he is far more occupied with the curve and line of Doctor McCoy’s fingers and the way his index finger slides up the length of it, curving slowly and tenderly.   
  
It is not quite as explosive as Spock imagined their first kiss would be.   
  
It is perfect, nonetheless.  
  
“Spock,” McCoy says in a hush. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you into bed.”  
  
This is sensible and, best of all, it is logical. Spock accounts for the rush of warmth persisting in flooding his whole being as an observance that Doctor McCoy is a most compatible mate when he exhibits the tenets of logic.   
  
v.  
  
Doctor McCoy has been avoiding him since the  _incident_  outside of his quarters. Spock believes that, per Earth customs, he is expected to apologize for his untoward behaviour. He was drunk and his touching of the doctor’s fingers was unacceptable. He sees that now that he is sober.   
  
He wishes to explain that to McCoy, but each time he visits in the time when Doctor McCoy should be working, he finds M’Benga instead.  
  
“He switched at the last minute,” M’Benga explains. “Wouldn’t tell me why.”  
  
Spock does not find such an explanation satisfactory. He accepts the excuse with a nod of his head, but does not finish his search for the doctor there. He is determined to seek him out and thoroughly explain his behavior.   
  
He is aware that it was unbecoming and that McCoy, as an intelligent human being, is well aware of what Spock had been doing.   
  
He breaches the rules of professional conduct only because McCoy has driven him to it.  
  
This is why he has abandoned his plan of meeting McCoy at the clinic and discussing the issue. It is why he has taken the matter into his own hands and now waits outside of McCoy’s quarters, where he cannot be avoided for much longer. It takes four hours and thirty-six minutes for Doctor McCoy to return, but Spock is as steady and patient as he had been the moment he arrived.   
  
“I don’t remember ordering a Vulcan to stand guard at my door,” McCoy drawls. As his sarcastic quips go, it lacks the edge that it could have possessed.  
  
“I have been trying to speak with you for days, but you have persisted in avoiding me.”  
  
“Take a hint, Spock,” McCoy says sharply.  
  
“Am I to believe that your reaction implies distaste for our kissing?”  
  
“You were drunk, Spock, that’s all.” The doctor sounds tired.   
  
Spock believes that there are facts that McCoy is missing or he would not have come to this conclusion. It is true that Spock had imbibed more chocolate than necessarily safe for consumption at once. It is true that his inhibitions were lowered, but it is not true that Spock acted purely on whim and desire.  
  
He wishes to communicate this and believes that it is best done by pressing his fingers to McCoy’s cheek. He does not intrude upon his thoughts, does not push deeper than to feel the heady buzz of human emotion at his fingertips. “That is not all,” he replies. “It is, as a friend once told me, about the company. I would choose to indulge in your company, even when sober.”  
  
He does not believe that to be amusing, but it makes McCoy laugh, nonetheless.  
  
“Okay,” he says, reducing Spock’s anxiety over whether he is about to receive rejection. “Okay, we can talk about how you can manage to stand me when you’re sober.”  
  
Spock wishes to tell McCoy it is far more than that, but he feels a soft thrum of something like anticipation and anxiety at his fingertips and it is all the explanation he requires to understand that not everything is as it seems on the surface.


End file.
